Hurt and Alone
by Ras1
Summary: Prequel added! HurtComfort, slash. This story is about how Lex and Clark are physically hurt and emotionally alone, but find comfort in each other. WarningAbuse. Prequelpost HotHead, 1 & 2 post Xray hurting Clark, 3 &4 post Jitters hurting Lex
1. Prequel--The Game

Title: Hurt and Alone Prequel--The Game  
  
Author: Ras  
  
Rating: PG-13 Warning: Character Abuse!!!  
  
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Mild Slash  
  
Summary: Hurt/Comfort galore. This story is about how Lex and Clark are physically hurt and emotionally alone, but find comfort in each other. The prequel is set at the end of "Hot Head" and is slightly alternate universe. Lionel confronts Lex about not firing the workers, only this time he's a little more violent. Parts 1 and 2 are post "X-ray" and are Clarkcentric. Parts 3 and 4 are written post "Jitters" when it's Clark's turn to take care of an injured and alone Lex.  
  
Feedback: Always welcome. Please e-mail [1]RobinSchatz@msn.com  
  
Disclaimer: Lex belongs to Clark and Clark belongs to Lex . . . wait, what I meant to say was that I don't own these characters. Smallville is copyright the WB. No infringement is intended.  
  
Important Authors Notes: This story contains graphic physical abuse of a character. Although I don't think that the tv show Lex is actually physically abused, I like the concept. I think that there is enough pain in the Lionel and Lex relationship to support the idea. However, if you are unwilling to step slightly outside of cannon, you will not like this story. Also, although this part is Clark and Lex friendship, subsequent parts are slash. If you don't like slash, you might not like the story either.  
  
indicates a character's thoughts.  
  
**  
  
The library doors exploded inward as Lionel Luthor stormed through them. "Would you care to explain THIS?" he shook a pile of papers furiously.  
  
"Hello, Dad," Lex grinned. He had been anxiously awaiting this visit. He reminded himself that he couldn't act too excited, just . . . cocky. "You know Clark, right?" he gestured to the handsome young man examining the chess board across from him. Lex was sure his father couldn't care less, but it was the perfect nonchalant thing to say just to aggravate Lionel.  
  
"I told you to FIRE those workers!"  
  
"I see you got my business plan," Lex said proudly. "I'd call it ingenious." The irate look he received from his father was exactly what he was hoping for. It was about time he was given the chance to prove to his father how superior he was. Still, with the way Lionel was steaming, maybe it was best to move the conversation away from Clark. "Clark, will you excuse us a moment? Business calls," he explained as he strode out the door, his infuriated father inches behind him.  
  
Lex made his way to the "war room," which he found ironically fitting. He settled on a spot by the roaring fireplace and finally turned to face the upcoming battle. "What's the matter, Dad? Aren't you pleased with all of the money I'm saving you?  
  
Lionel was ready to blow, but he knew that Lex was trying to provoke him. Not to worry; he'd put his son in his place. "I told you to fire 20% of your workforce, and you send me this nonsense! Completely unacceptable!"  
  
"You're just upset because my plan is so much better than yours," Lex gloated.  
  
That was the act of defiance Lionel was waiting for. Apparently, his son needed a refresher lesson on his position in the world. He pulled the fireplace poker out of its holder and twirled it between his fingers. Lex stiffened upon recognition of the implement, but quickly recovered. Good, the boy is finally learning to hide his emotions. "You do as I say, Lex. After all this time, you still haven't learned your lesson. But don't worry; I'll teach you to be an obedient son yet."  
  
Lionel tapped the metal lightly on his hand to demonstrate the weight. Lex's throat tightened in terror. Not again, not now . . . please not now. He had overplayed his hand. He knew that now, but it was too late. He tried to slow his escalating heart rate, blink back the water rushing to his eyes, and quickly formulate a new position. "What? Are you going to beat me now with Clark right in the other room to hear every blow? `Metropolis billionaire flogs son, witness says.' Doesn't make for the best PR, Dad."  
  
Lionel snorted a laugh. "You think I care about what your peon farm boy thinks?" Lionel cackled evilly. He grabbed Lex's arm, spun him around, and pinned him to the back of the couch. Lionel shoved his son harder to emphasize how trapped he was; then he moved the poker close to Lex's face. He wanted Lex to get a good view of what he was about to be beaten with. Anticipation was the most effective part of punishment. Inches from Lex's ear he whispered, "I don't care what the Kent boy sees, but I bet that you do. Don't you? Shall we test that? Will you scream for Clark to come witness this?"  
  
Lex' lip began to tremble with fear. He resigned himself to the whipping; his father had called his bluff. He couldn't take the humiliation of Clark knowing . . . He felt his body go limp in preparation for the upcoming thrashing.  
  
"How much do you think you deserve, Lex? Hmmm?" Lionel tapped the metal rod on Lex's shoulder sending shivers up his spine. "You were supposed to fire 20% of your workers, and you fired none. How about a stroke for each percent, then?"  
  
Twenty! Lex suddenly felt nauseas. God, twenty heavy blows from that cursed poker. From experience, he knew that his father could yield the weapon well. His back just couldn't take it. His silk shirt was shoved up his back. Rough hands ran lightly over the bare skin. Lex tried to flinch away, but he was too restrained to move. Being touched by his father was actually worse than being beaten. But . . . that was coming, too. He wished that his father would start; he prayed that he never would.  
  
Lex felt the slightest breeze as the poker whipped through the air. Thud! It landed squarely on his back. Intense pain immediately radiated throughout. Lex hissed in agony, barely gasping in a breath before the tool resumed its position on his back. The two strokes formed an X with the center swelling into a deep, deep bruise. His father knew that the easiest way to break him was to deliver a few hard blows quickly to the same tortured area. It was working. Another blow smacked right into his shoulder blade eliciting a soft whimper from Lex's tight throat. Lex chided himself, Don't, Lex. You can't cry. He always punishes harder when you start to cry. You have to be quiet, keep it in. If Clark hears you . . . That was an unbearable thought. He bit down tightly on his lip hoping to contain the screams of agony threatening to escape at any moment. His ribs took another hard hit, which allowed a single tear to trickle slowly down his cheek.  
  
Eventually, it was done. "You get one," Lionel taunted.  
  
"One what?" Lex questioned, trying to conceal his pain. He wouldn't give his father the satisfaction of seeing him cry. But the slightest crack in his voice betrayed him.  
  
"One chance to defy me."  
  
Lex pulled himself together and turned to face his father without fear. "I won't need another one." Lex would be keeping his workers.  
  
**  
  
Lex permitted himself a moment of recovery after his father left. His back was badly bruised; he wondered if he broke a rib. It would be hard to pretend like everything was fine. He was glad that Clark was there, though. True, it would be extremely difficult to conceal his injuries, but at least he didn't have to face them alone. Being with Clark made him feel like maybe someone could actually like Lex Luthor; him, not his name. If Clark weren't there, he would have gone to his room alone with his pain and tears. At least with Clark there he could pretend that if Clark knew about the abuse, he'd care. Someone cared.  
  
**  
  
Lex tried not to limp as he reentered the room.  
  
"Everything okay, Lex?" Clark asked with concern.  
  
He shot Clark a genuine smile. "Fine, where were we?"  
  
"You were teaching me how to get my ass kicked in chess."  
  
"Right," Lex remembered. "You go yet?"  
  
"Yeah, actually, I just took your knight."  
  
Lex smiled. That was exactly the move he was expecting. "The thing about chess, Clark, is that sometimes taking a painful loss is the key to taking the king. Checkmate."  
  
References  
  
1. mailto:RobinSchatz@msn.com 


	2. Needing Love

Title: Hurting and Alone  
  
Author: Ras  
  
Spoilers: Major spoilers for X-ray and all previous episodes  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Ep  
  
Summary: Set at the end of X-ray, Clark is more hurt physically and emotionally than he lets anyone see. Can he open up to Lex?  
  
Feedback: Always welcome, e-mail RobinSchatz@msn.com  
  
Clark shut his bedroom door, relieved to be alone for a moment. He completely trusted his parents, but he didn't want even them to see how hurt he was. No reason to give them one more thing to worry about.  
  
The headaches had been increasing in intensity for days, with the pain peaking right before the startling flashes of x-ray vision. The pain was always there in basal amounts, though, and right now it felt as if a vice was tightly squeezing his brain. Clark messaged his temples deeply with his fingers, hoping to loosen some of the tension. He was sure that trying to "focus" his new vision hadn't helped matters any. His bruised brain felt like it was going to explode right out of his skull. More than anything, he wanted to just take an aspirin like a normal person and make the pain go away. But he couldn't chance that. The Kents had never given Clark any kind of medication out of fear of how his body might react to it. No, instead he had to tough out the pain on his own. Of course, until recently, that hadn't been a concern. Clark had never gotten hurt or sick before.  
  
Now, Clark found himself badly beaten for the second time. The meteor rocks weakened him and made him feel dizzy and so very, very sick. As if that weren't bad enough, somehow the rocks also made his body vulnerable to injury. Normally, nothing could hurt him; not fists, or fire, or even speeding cars. But as soon as his alien body was around those iridescent green rocks, he lost all of his supernatural protection. Getting away from the meteor rocks made the sickness go away and his strength return immediately, but his body didn't heal itself from any wounds he received while under their influence. When Greg had knocked him around in that abandoned factory with all the meteor rocks, he had sustained significant injury. It had taken weeks before all of those bruises healed, and they had hurt so very much. Clark wasn't use to physical pain. Trying to hide his physical suffering from his parents for that long had been nearly impossible, but he had somehow managed.  
  
Having to face the same dilemma again so soon after the last time was a devastating thought, but now a reality. Clark's back was killing him; his skin, muscles, and even his bones screamed in agony. Tina had a LOT more strength than he had thought and she had thrown him really hard. Luckily, he hadn't broken anything, but his back hit the ground with such force . . . he was sure he was covered in bruises again. And he had slammed his head; he probably had a concussion. That was just great for his headaches. Out of a morbid curiosity, Clark glanced at the mirror as he removed his shirt while changing for bed. The extent of the bruising shocked even him; his entire back was black and blue. It was impossible to delineate individual bruises; instead, he was completely covered in one large blending pattern of deep hues. A few large cuts added to the grotesqueness. Clark smiled as he muttered, "Yeah, definitely can't let Mom and Dad see this."  
  
As he slid on his pajamas, Clark tried to remind himself that he had been injured while saving Lana's life. That should have made him feel good, and he was happy that Lana was safe, but . . . the image of her and Whitney kissing wouldn't leave his mind. He knew that he wasn't supposed to have seen any of that, but he had, because . . . "You're a freak," Clark reminded himself. Worse than seeing the physical act of them kissing and hugging was the expression on Lana's face. She had been so relieved when Whitney had run up to her. She loved him. And why shouldn't she? So what if he was a jerk that had . . . tortured him for looking at his girl? How delusional had he been to think that the knowledge of the scarecrow incident might have changed her mind about her boyfriend? Tears began to slide down Clark's face as he grieved out of loss for a relationship that never existed.  
  
It wasn't like he could actually be with her himself. Clark knew that. Although he wanted to be with Lana more than anything, he knew he never could. He had the biggest secret in the world to keep, and for that reason he could never be really close to anyone. Sure, he could be friends with people like Chloe, Pete, or Lex, but he could never actually let anyone in to see the real him. A true love relationship was out of the question; the dangers were just too great. So why did it hurt so much to see Lana with Whitney?  
  
Clark was freely crying by the time he climbed under the covers of his bed. "Lana deserves to be with someone that isn't a freak," he whimpered before the sobbing completely closed off his throat. He curled his knees in to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and slowly rocked himself in the fetal position, trying to alleviate some of the soreness in his back. It was so hard to fall asleep with his head throbbing and his back searing with pain, so he allowed himself to continue to weep with his loneliness. Gradually, he cried himself to sleep, hurting and alone.  
  
  
  
Clark aligned the cue ball with the six on Lex's pool table with ease, quickly sinking his shot.  
  
"You've trapped yourself now," Lex commented with a smile. "You've got to plan further ahead than that, Clark."  
  
Clark grinned, too. He had planned on missing the shot on purpose to give Lex a chance to play. He did need to occasionally miss shots to give the appearance of normality. Clark was just enjoying Lex's company and being out of the house. The game was keeping his thoughts away from last night's events, but he wasn't really concerned about winning. However, sinking the ball sounded like a lot more fun after that comment. "We'll see," Clark flashed Lex another pearly white smile before awkwardly reaching across the table to set up what was going to be an amazing shot.  
  
"Clark . . ."  
  
"Oh no, don't think you can distract me from . . ."  
  
"No, Clark, your back . . ." Lex voiced his concern.  
  
Clark's eyes bulged in terror as he realized that he had let his gray t- shirt ride up his back as he reached across the table. He bolted straight up in a panic, and quickly pulled down his shirt to adequately cover the area. "It's nothing, Lex."  
  
"It doesn't look like nothing, Clark. It looks like hell. What happened?"  
  
"I . . . I got a little hurt in the fight with Tina yesterday. Really, it's nothing."  
  
"Can I see?" Lex asked.  
  
Clark could think of little more embarrassing than letting Lex examine his abused back, but . . . he didn't exactly know how to say no to Lex. And there wouldn't be any signs of his superpowers. If anything, letting Lex see his back in this condition would make him appear more human. In the end, he simply shrugged. Lex could see it if he really wanted to.  
  
Lex approached Clark slowly, not wanting to frighten him. He gingerly rolled up the t-shirt, revealing a mass of bruises and cuts. Clark's muscles twitched slightly under the critical gaze, but Lex decided to completely remove the shirt to get a better view. He lightly placed his hand on the black and blue back, eliciting a shutter of pain from his young friend. At least the back didn't feel warm to his touch. "Did you let the paramedics examine this, Clark?"  
  
Clark shook his head.  
  
Once again Lex found himself suggesting medical attention to Clark. "I'll call my personal doctor in to see you."  
  
"No," Clark said firmly. He forced himself to hide the panic in his voice. He couldn't let a doctor examine him; if a doctor found out about his unique physiology then . . . He COULDN'T let that happen. "I . . . I don't want anyone to know about this . . ."  
  
"He's discreet, Clark. From experience, no one will know."  
  
"Please, Lex, I'm fine," Clark begged. "Please, Lex???"  
  
Lex nodded. Although he was sure he could rely upon his smooth charisma to convince anyone to do anything, he didn't like seeing Clark in such a panic. Besides, he could understand wanting to hide something. He noticed that Clark relaxed a little as soon as the idea of seeing a doctor was dropped; however, it was pretty obvious that Clark was only pretending to study the alignment of the pool balls again. "So, she worth it?"  
  
"Hmm?" Clark asked, lost in his own thoughts.  
  
"Lana. Is she worth taking all of that," Lex gestured to Clark's back with his eyes.  
  
"Yes," Clark said without hesitation. Saving Lana's life was worth any amount of pain.  
  
"So, why aren't you with her today?"  
  
"I'm sure she's with Whitney." Clark sighed.  
  
"Ahh, the jock who's the proverbial thorn in your side."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I saw that you gave her the necklace back. What did she say?"  
  
"I didn't exactly. I just left it for her to find. As a matter of fact, I wish that you hadn't said anything to her about . . . about the whole scarecrow thing."  
  
"Why?" Lex asked, his tone a little acidic.  
  
"Because, it was the single most humiliating moment of my life! It's embarrassing for her to know anything about . . . that . . . I wish that no one knew about it, and . . ."  
  
"You have to learn to use what you are given, Clark. I gave you the perfect plan to win Lana. She was as good as yours. Why didn't you go through with it?" His question was biting, filled with anger. The sudden change in his tone almost frightened Clark.  
  
"I don't want to manipulate her like that," Clark tried to explain. "Do you know what I mean?"  
  
"No," Lex replied truthfully.  
  
Clark sighed. He hadn't realized that this would be so difficult to explain. "I want her to love me for who I am, and . . . she doesn't."  
  
"But giving her the necklace would have just opened her eyes to what a jerk her boyfriend is. It would have given her the opportunity to fall in love with the real you."  
  
"You really think that she would?"  
  
"If she had any appreciation for what's beautiful in the world, she would." Lex felt himself drawn closer to Clark but forced himself to break away from the moment. He picked up a pool stick, forcibly struck the cue ball, and bounced it over the eight ball in the way. The desired ball hit the pocket with ease. "You always need to take advantage of your position, Clark."  
  
  
  
Suddenly, Clark grimaced, grabbed his head, and doubled over in pain. "Not now," he moaned.  
  
"Clark?" Lex asked in concern.  
  
"It's nothing," Clark groaned.  
  
"You use that phrase a lot," Lex commented as he placed his hand gingerly on Clark's shoulder.  
  
"It's just a headache," Clark explained.  
  
"It's just a concussion," Lex corrected. Another shudder of pain flashed across Clark. Lex braced Clark's body, honestly expecting him to fall over. "All right Clark, that's it. You're going to let someone take care of you," Lex commanded.  
  
"No, I . . ."  
  
"At least lay down in one of my guest bedrooms, just for a little bit. You shouldn't sleep for an extended amount of time with a concussion anyway. Sleep for a few hours and I'll come check on you. I can tell you haven't slept much." Lex noticed that Clark looked like he was about to cry, and he was shaking his head. "What is it?"  
  
"It's just . . ." Clark cut himself off, afraid to admit the truth to anyone. He was afraid that Lex would just scold him more if he told the truth about his feelings.  
  
"It's okay, Clark. You can tell me," Lex reassured him.  
  
"Every time I close my eyes I see Lana and Whitney together. They're so happy together, and then they laugh at me. All I can think about is how alone I am."  
  
"You're not alone, Clark," Lex comforted him. "I'll sit with you . . ."  
  
"You don't have to do that." Clark winced a little as the throbbing in his head flared again.  
  
"No, I want to, Clark. Come on, we'll put an ice pack on your back, and I'll sit with you until you fall asleep. Trust me enough to take care of you."  
  
Clark nodded. It was actually a bit of a relief to turn his care over to Lex.  
  
"Upstairs, first door on the left," Lex directed. "I'll grab some ice and be up in a minute."  
  
Clark nodded and headed up the stairs. About half way up, a wave of dizziness peaked. He tried to continue up the stairs, but he was so disoriented, he didn't even know which way was up anymore. The room began to spin, and he felt himself falling. Clark tried to catch himself; his fingers reached just inches from the railing. But it was too late. Clark plummeted down the stairs, landing in a heap on the floor.  
  
"Jesus, Clark!" Lex rushed to Clark's side.  
  
The x-ray vision finally broke through revealing Lex's skeleton to Clark. He cracked a smile, "I'm fine."  
  
"Always," Lex replied.  
  
  
  
To Lex's surprise, Clark was actually able to stand up fairly quickly.  
  
"First door on the left?" Clark asked before starting up the stairs again.  
  
"Wait!" Lex demanded. "I think maybe this time I should help you up the stairs, just in case."  
  
Clark permitted Lex to put his arms around him for support and help him up the stairs. Not that he needed the help now. The x-ray vision had broken through, and Clark knew that the debilitating headaches wouldn't be back for a while at least. Still, it wouldn't hurt to let Lex think that the fall had hurt him more than it had, and Clark didn't really mind Lex's arms around him. It felt good to be held, to be touched, even if it was just to stop him from falling over.  
  
Lex helped Clark walk all the way to the bed and even turned back the covers before releasing Clark from his arms of support. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back with the ice." Lex headed out the door, but was stopped by Clark's voice.  
  
Barely audible, Clark whispered, "Please don't leave me, Lex."  
  
Lex turned to Clark in surprise, unsure if he had even actually heard that. Clark looked so fragile and abandoned. It shattered through even Lex's defenses. "Okay, Clark," he whispered softly. "I'll stay." Lex sat lightly on the edge of the bed. He busied himself with covering up Clark's trembling body. "Don't want you getting cold," he added. Lex noticed that Clark's lip was quivering. Clark was on the verge of tears. "It's okay, Clark. I'm here. I'm right here," Lex soothed. He ran his fingers gingerly through Clark's thick hair. "You're not alone," he reminded. That brought a sob out of Clark, but he quickly stifled it. "It's okay. Let it out. It's okay to cry in front me. Go ahead and cry, Clark."  
  
That was all that it took. Within a second, Clark was sobbing. Lex did his part by continuing to pet Clark's head and shoulders, but that wasn't enough for Clark. He wanted to be held, to feel Lex's strong arms around him. Clark inched his way up the bed, until he could rest his head in Lex's lap. This was the comfort that he sought. Clark allowed himself to fall asleep while sobbing into Lex. 


	3. After

Title: Hurt and Alone Part 2 –After—  
  
Author: Ras  
  
Category: Hurt/comfort, mildly slashy, post-ep  
  
Summary: A short follow-up to Hurt and Alone 1. Lex wakes Clark up.  
  
Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own any of these characters. No infringement is intended.  
  
Lex didn't want to wake Clark up. Sure, he knew that it was important, but . . . Clark was so adorable snuggled up in his lap. Clark was lying on his side with his face smothered in Lex's thighs and his knees curled tightly into his body. Clark shivered slightly prompting Lex to cover him better with the blankets. But, the cutest part was the way Clark's arm was holding onto Lex's knees, as if he were reassuring himself that Lex was still there.  
  
What Lex wanted to do was cuddle Clark all night long. It was obvious that Clark was sleep deprived, scared, hurt, and lonely. He needed Lex. "Don't worry, Clark," Lex whispered, "I'm here to protect you." He petted Clark's hair a little and caressed his shoulders. "I won't let you hurt like this anymore." Lex could do that; he could protect him. It wouldn't be difficult to get Whitney out of the way for Clark. Nor would it be difficult to get Lana and Clark together. Clark wanted Lana, so Lana he would have. Of course, that wasn't exactly what Lex wanted. Lex wasn't used to not getting exactly what he wanted, but he wanted Clark to get exactly what he wanted. Besides, what Lex really wanted was to rip Clark's clothes off and . . . and that would be . . . illegal.  
  
Yeah, he really should wake Clark up. He needed to wake Clark up to assess his mental status; he had to make sure that Clark's concussion wasn't getting worse. And, he had promised Clark that he would wake him up after a few hours. Of course, he hadn't completely defined "a few." A couple more minutes of holding him wouldn't really matter.  
  
As if on cue, Clark began stirring, tossing from a nightmare. A soft whimper escaped his throat before Clark awoke violently, gasping for breath. After a moment, Clark bolted upright, out of the comfort of Lex.  
  
"Are you okay, Clark?" Lex questioned. Clark nodded, still reaching for air. "I need you to talk so that I can tell if you're truly all right, Clark."  
  
"I'm fine," Clark whispered between breaths.  
  
Those words again. Lex had hoped that they could drop the façade now, but he couldn't really blame Clark for falling back to his protective behavior. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Okay," Clark whispered. After a look from Lex, he knew he had to expand on that. "My head feels better, but . . . my back still aches."  
  
"Yeah," Lex smiled. "That probably won't get better for a few weeks."  
  
"You sound like someone that knows."  
  
"Yeah," Lex laughed.  
  
Clark didn't want to ask what kind of sports injury made Lex an expert on bruises. "I should go," Clark said.  
  
It was clear that Clark was embarrassed about having cried in front of Lex. He had his arms wrapped around himself protectively, and his cheeks were just the slightest bit red.  
  
"You can spend the night if you want." Lex already knew the answer to that question before he asked it, but he needed to put it out there anyway.  
  
"No, my parents . . ." Clark didn't really need to finish the thought. It was understood. He swallowed hard, trying to work up the courage to say something. "Lex, I'm . . . I'm sorry about, before . . ."  
  
"Sorry? Why?"  
  
"For losing it like that. I didn't mean to break down on you."  
  
"It's okay, Clark. I'm glad that you trust me enough for that."  
  
"You . . . you wouldn't tell anyone . . . about any of this, would you? My parents, or Lana?  
  
"Of course not, Clark," Lex reassured. "Another secret just for us." He felt the need to relieve Clark's tension. "Come on, I'll drive you home."  
  
"No, Dad will kill me if I don't bring the truck home."  
  
"Clark, you can't drive in your condition. What if you have a dizzy spell while you are driving? You nearly passed out on the stairs." Lex knew Clark was concerned now, but still unwilling to leave the truck behind. "I'll have a servant drive your truck behind us. You're father will never know."  
  
  
  
It had been a long, quite drive. Clark still felt awkward about letting Lex see how raw his pain was on the inside. He didn't want Lex thinking that he was a wuss. However, he really had needed that . . . to let it out, to let someone see his hurting, but still care about him. And, Lex had treated him just the way he would have wanted. It had felt so good to have Lex's arms around him.  
  
They were at his house. It was time to say goodbye. "Lex," Clark spoke for the first time since they'd left the mansion.  
  
"Yes, Clark?"  
  
"Thank you . . . for being there. It meant a lot to me." Clark unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the porche in silence.  
  
"Clark," Lex called after him. "I'll always be there for you."  
  
--Soon to come-- Hurt and Alone Part 3. It's Lex's turn to be hurting and lonely. I'm sure you can imagine who might help him with that. A post- Jitters fic. Can we say concussion? 


	4. Deserted Lex

Title: Hurt and Alone 3--Deserted Lex  
  
Author: Ras  
  
Spoilers: Major spoilers for Jitters and all previous episodes  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Ep  
  
Summary: Set at the end of Jitters. Lex did get hit by that gun pretty hard. Now it's Clark's turn to take care of a hurting and alone Lex. Mildly slashy.  
  
Posting/Archiving: Anyone that wants it can have it. Just tell me where it's going.  
  
Feedback: Always welcome, e-mail [1]RobinSchatz@msn.com  
  
Author's notes: If you can not accept something that is slightly outside of cannon, you will not like this story. It's definite that Lionel Luthor is emotionally abusive, but an anonymous person inspired an idea in my head that maybe he's physically abusive as well. Although I don't feel that the physical abuse is clearly there in the tv show, I feel that it could be. So my Lex was physically and emotionally abused by his father. It just makes for better angst.  
  
indicate a character's thoughts.  
  
**  
  
A hug from his father was an unbearable thought for Lex Luthor. More than anything he wanted to shove Lionel off of him, but Lex knew better than that. Not in front of the cameras at least; that would result in a beating for sure. So Lex tried to endure the embrace while desperately searching for an escape.  
  
That's when he saw the Kents. Their happiness made his pain hurt worse. It wasn't that he was jealous of Clark; he wanted Clark to be happy. The inevitable comparison between the hugs just served as a poignant reminder of how alone Lex was. He wanted someone to truly care about him like that, someone to hug him with love. But Lex knew that would never happen, and that's why it hurt so much.  
  
Lex forced the ache in his heart down deep and reminded himself that he had to start acting like a Luthor. He focused on putting on his proper PR face until the reporters were gone. It didn't take long for Lionel to find another chance to injure his son.  
  
"You're lucky," Lionel baited.  
  
"Why?" Lex asked in his typically charismatic manner, raising his eyebrows with the question. He refused to let his father see how easy it was to upset him.  
  
"Because, then I really would have had to punish you."  
  
Lex laughed; as if he thought it were a joke. Of course he knew that it wasn't; that's probably why his heart was pounding faster and faster. But, maybe if he laughed and acted like it was a joke, then maybe it could be almost like it wasn't the truth. Almost.  
  
Lex had to get away from his father. He continued to force a smile as he walked away, pretending to busy himself with cleaning up the monitoring area. The dizziness that swarmed his head upon movement surprised Lex, but didn't necessarily alarm him. He had sustained a pretty substantial blow to the head. It did concern him a little when he realized his vision was too blurred to make out anything on the Luthorcorp blueprints. He tried to concentrate and see if he could get his vision to return. Lex suddenly felt faint and had to grab on to the table to stop from falling over. Great, a concussion, he thought. Just hang on, Lex. The dizziness will pass in a minute, you can wait it out.  
  
"Mr. Luthor?" The quiet voice surprised him.  
  
"Yes?" He looked up quickly, too quickly. The sudden movement sent a stabbing pain through the front of his head and made the vertigo so much worse. He grasped the table tighter while trying to conceal his condition. "Can I help you?"  
  
"We'd like to check you out, just to be on the safe side," the girl in the paramedic uniform said.  
  
Normally Lex would have said no, but . . . the whole world was spinning around him. If he thought he could walk to the car . . . but right now he was sure that he would collapse on the way. "If you want," he shrugged.  
  
She led him toward the ambulance; he tried to follow. "Tried" being the operative word. Each step made the dizziness worse and made his head pound harder. Act normal, Lex. Walk casually. You can do it--calm, collected. He reminded himself that Luthors had to walk with presence, never letting anyone see a weakness. Do you realize how humiliating it would be if you passed out here? Dad would be furious . . . Just a few more steps. He closed his eyes to force out the whirling world as he walked those last few steps. He had made it.  
  
He sat on the bumper of the ambulance, sweating and exhausted. Just walking the few yards to the ambulance had drained him of all that he had. This concussion was definitely worse than previous ones. Maybe if he just closed his eyes and relaxed a minute the pain would stop. An intense buzzing brought Lex's attention to a helicopter taking off in the distance. "Thanks for caring, Dad," Lex whispered under his breath. The deeper, more severe pain in his heart burned again.  
  
"What's that, Mr. Luthor?" the paramedic asked.  
  
"Nothing, and please, call me Lex. Mr. Luthor is my father," and someone I never want be, he added silently in his mind. He starred off blankly as the helicopter faded to a speck in the horizon.  
  
Lex tried once again to wall off the ache in his heart. It wasn't that he wanted his father to stick around. As a matter of fact, his father was just about the last person he wanted around while he was injured. Lionel would probably belittle him right now for accepting medical care. It wasn't like he expected his father to be Jonathan Kent, who was still hugging his son. But . . . didn't he deserve a father who would be concerned about his welfare, who wouldn't reprimand him for saving the lives of all those kids. Apparently, he didn't.  
  
"Were you injured in the incident, Mr. Luthor?"  
  
"I was pistol whipped to the back of my head," he grimaced slightly with another wave of pain.  
  
"Where do you have pain?"  
  
It was difficult for Lex to admit to pain, even though he knew how important it was. He swallowed his pride and said, "My head is throbbing in the back, with a shooting pain in deeper. I think I might have pulled by shoulder in a fall, too."  
  
"Do you have any blurred vision or dizziness?"  
  
"I'm going to have to say yes, unless the world really did start revolving around me."  
  
The girl laughed. At least he could still be charismatic even in this state. Another paramedic took his blood pressure while the one he had been talking to shined a penlight into his eyes. God, that light was bright! A searing pain shot through his head as she continued to flick the light between his eyes.  
  
"Pupils are dilated and unresponsive bilaterally. Lex, we need to take you into the emergency room."  
  
"Oh, no," Lex shook his head, which he immediately regretted. He made a mental note that head movement was a bad idea right now. "It's just a concussion. I've had a concussion before; I can take care of it myself."  
  
"Your dizziness, blurred vision, pain, and unresponsive pupils could be signs of a serious brain hemorrhage. We won't know until you have a CAT scan. You really need to be seen by a doctor."  
  
"Really, I just want to go home. This day has been long enough. I'll be fine."  
  
"Will you at least let me perform one more test?" she asked.  
  
"Sure," he acquiesced.  
  
"Stand up, feet together, hands at your side," she commanded.  
  
Lex performed the requested task. "Can I go now?"  
  
The paramedic put up her arms to catch him. "Now close your eyes."  
  
Lex sighed and complied with her request. Amazingly, that made his dizziness worse. He couldn't even tell if he was upright anymore until he collapsed into the paramedic's arms.  
  
She was a lot stronger than she looked; she helped Lex to his feet. "Now, can I take you in?"  
  
**  
  
Why do doctors always have to degrade their patients before they see them? Lex wondered. He hated the flimsy, revealing gowns that hospitals made you wear. He was cold, and to be honest, a little afraid, too. He had been waiting for a while to see an actual doctor. After all of the test, he was sure that doctors made you wait forever on purpose. It was a play to make them seem more important--another chess game, even in medicine. Of course, maybe something was really wrong with him. He'd never felt this bad after a blow to the head before. Lex tried to distract himself while he waited, but the room was so sterile and cold. The moment he let his mind leave its worries about his current condition, it immediately leapt back to his feeling of anger towards his father. He doesn't even care if I die. He probably wishes I had . . . Maybe it was better to focus on the headache after all.  
  
"Mr. Luthor?" a middle-aged female doctor asked upon entering his room. It was about time. "Your CT came back normal. You probably have a moderate concussion, but there's no evidence of a severe bleed." This information was actually a large relief to Lex. The doctor began examining his shoulder, moving it slightly. "There is no overt damage to your shoulder either, so you probably did just pull it."  
  
She adjusted his arm again, eliciting a hiss out of Lex. "Does that hurt?" He didn't reply. "I think that it would be best if we bandaged it up for you."  
  
"When can I go home?"  
  
"Your injuries seem mild to moderate . . . a few bruises, a sprain, the concussion . . . I think the odds of your head injury progressing to a hematoma are low. I don't have a problem with releasing you to the close care of a family member, as long as there's someone to monitor you incase your condition deteriorates."  
  
Lex's throat was suddenly very tight, and he felt his eyes fill with water. A close family member, been a long time since I had one of those.  
  
"Is your father here?"  
  
"No," it was so difficult to even get the word out.  
  
"Oh, well, I could call him if you'd like."  
  
"No," Lex repeated. Not like he'd come anyway . . . and even if he did, I'd have to face his wrath again. Listening to him lecture me over and over isn't going to help my headache any. No, Lex didn't want him here.  
  
The doctor was a smart woman; she caught on immediately, although Lex hadn't really given her that much to go on. "It doesn't have to be him, Lex. I'll call anyone you want me to."  
  
That was the real kicker. Lex realized that there was no one that he could call, no one. With all of his power and money and connections, there was no one that he could ask for help, no one that he could trust to take care of him. He truly was all alone in the world, and this was just the proof. "I'll call one of my servants to come get me," the words slid through his swollen throat, nearly inaudible.  
  
"Lex, you're going to require constant care and supervision . . ." she realized that he didn't have anyone to call. "I'll make the arrangements for you to stay here at the hospital. It's not a bad idea for us to monitor you for 24 hours anyway." With that she was gone.  
  
Lex didn't want to stay at the hospital. He hated hospitals, after the way his mom had died in one . . . just being here brought back traumatic memories. He was hurting and tired and the last place that he wanted to be was in a hospital that reminded him of that. He'd have to spend the entire night alone in this cold environment with nothing but his pain to keep him company.  
  
"Lex?"  
  
Lex's face glowed at recognition of that voice. "Clark, what are you doing here?" He wondered if Clark noticed how happy he was to see him.  
  
Clark shrugged as he walked in to Lex's bedside. "I heard that the paramedics had to take you in, and I was worried about you. I thought I'd just come see how you're doing."  
  
"I'm fine. Didn't you hear? You can't hurt Lex Luthor when Clark Kent is around," Lex smiled again.  
  
Clark put his hands in his pockets. I'm sorry, Lex. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you more, but the kryptonite . . . Clark felt a little uncomfortable as he tried to address a touchy subject. "I . . . I was waiting outside before they'd let me come see you, and I . . . I sorta overheard what the doctor said."  
  
"Oh," Lex said, a little embarrassed now. Now Clark knew that no one cared about him, too.  
  
"You know, Lex, I could stay with you. I wouldn't mind . . ."  
  
"No," Lex swallowed hard. It was hard to refuse the offer, but "You should be with your family. They were really worried about you. Besides, I'm sure your father wouldn't approve of your having a slumber party with me."  
  
Clark smiled. "He'd understand. You're injured, AND you saved the lives of everyone in my class today. That's gotta count for something. I think he'll let you have me for the night."  
  
Lex wanted to say "yes." He wanted to accept Clark's offer so badly. But, he didn't want to put Clark out. Clark had saved his life for the second time; he shouldn't have to baby him now, too. But he didn't want to stay here. More than anything he wanted out of this hospital.  
  
"Come on, Lex. I can tell you don't want to stay here. Let me return the favor, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Lex smiled. He slowly swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up. The room immediately began spinning, but Lex chose to ignore it. He was going home, and he could do anything to get out of there. He gradually made his way over to where his clothes were laid on a chair.  
  
The hospital gown had no coverage in the back and Clark got a really good view of his friend. Lex has a really nice ass, Clark caught himself noticing. He forced his eyes to the ceiling, pretending he hadn't seen anything. He didn't dare stare at Lex's ass the way that he really wanted to. Lex had sat down in the chair and started to put his pants on. Lex gasped in pain as he tried to use his bad shoulder. "You want some help with that?"  
  
"No," Lex smiled, "I can do it." However, he mentally noted that having Clark help him with his pants was a good fantasy for the future. Lex pushed past the massive pain in his shoulder and managed to pull his pants on.  
  
"I've made arrangements for you to have a private room for the night," the doctor walked in.  
  
"I won't be needing that," Lex grinned.  
  
"I see," the doctor glanced knowingly between the two young boys. Lex hissed again as he tried to pull his shirt on. "I told you not to use that arm. I'll bandage it for you, then we can drape a shirt over it." She turned her attention to Clark, "Wait outside, I'll come give you some instructions on his care."  
  
**  
  
After listening to all of the detailed instructions on caring for Lex, Clark went into the room to get him. Lex couldn't have looked more adorable. He had his right arm in a sling that was bandaged to his body. His lavender shirt was draped across his injured shoulder for warmth, but left open allowing Clark to see that amazing washboard stomach. God, he looks hot, Clark thought. "Come on, Lex, let's get you home."  
  
Lex started the long walk out of the hospital ER. The minute he left the room he thought he was going to fall over again. He just felt so unsteady on his feet. The bright light of the waiting area made his head hurt worse. He tried to walk a little farther, but the room was spinning so fast now, he knew better than to force another step. "Clark," he whispered, too embarrassed to actually ask for help.  
  
Clark walked up to Lex's side and wrapped his arm around Lex's waist for support. "Don't worry, Lex. I'm here for you."  
  
Lex walked out of the hospital without fear; his Clark was there to catch him if he fell.  
  
In Part 4--What happens when Clark takes an injured Lex home?  
  
References  
  
1. mailto:RobinSchatz@msn.com 


	5. Secrets

Title: Hurt and Alone Part 4--Secrets  
  
Author: Ras  
  
Rating: R, Warning--Character Abuse! Slash.  
  
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Ep (Jitters)  
  
Summary: Clark takes an injured Lex home from the hospital. Hurt/comfort ensues.  
  
Disclaimer: Clark belongs to Lex, and Lex belongs to Clark . . . Oh, no wait, what I meant to say is that I don't own any of these characters. Smallville is copyright the WB and other corporations. No infringement is intended.  
  
Author's notes: If you can not accept something that is slightly outside of cannon, you will not like this story. It's definite that Lionel Luthor is emotionally abusive, but an anonymous person inspired an idea in my head that maybe he's physically abusive as well. Although I don't feel that the physical abuse is clearly there in the tv show, I feel that it could be. So my Lex was physically and emotionally abused by his father. It just makes for better angst.  
  
indicate a character's thoughts.  
  
**  
  
Clark nearly had to lift Lex out of the truck. He once again wrapped his arms around Lex's waist for support. Lex wrapped his left arm over Clark's shoulders, just to be safe. They slowly began the walk to the mansion door. "Bedroom or couch?" Clark asked. What he was really asking was if Lex thought he could actually make it up the stone staircase even with Clark's help.  
  
Lex paused and contemplated the choice for a moment. "Bed," he decided. He planned on being passed out for a very, very long time, and he wanted to be comfortable. Besides, Clark was strong; he would get him up the stairs somehow.  
  
Somehow almost became Clark carrying Lex up the stairs, but the couple managed to make it to Lex's bedroom without a fall. Clark had never been in this room before. It suited Lex well, he decided. It was simple, yet refined. Purple silk covered the bed and the windows.  
  
"Bathroom first," Lex whispered. Once in the dark bathroom, Lex did not head for the toilet as Clark had expected. Instead, he opened a drawer and pulled out an amber prescription bottle. Lex handed it to Clark. "Open that up for me, Clark," he asked before filling a glass with water.  
  
Clark examined the prescription carefully. It was for Lex from a Metropolis pharmacy about a year ago. The name of the drug was Vicoprofen. "Lex, the doctor said she didn't want you to take any pain medications because of your head injury."  
  
Lex yanked the bottle back out of Clark's hand. "She also said my CAT scan was fine." He tried desperately to whirl the child-proof cap off, but it was impossible with only one hand. Damn it, I am not going to try and endure this without a narcotic. In frustration, Lex slammed the cap of the vial against the bathroom counter. To his surprise, the cap popped off, spewing pills everywhere. He glanced in the bottle, a few tablets remained inside. "Well that works," he grinned, very proud of himself. He downed the remaining pills followed with a swig of water. Lex felt himself swaying as his dizziness worsened. Clark wasn't close enough to grab him. Have to hold onto something before I fall, he thought as he reached for the countertop. The glass slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, shattering to tiny fragments all over the bathroom floor. Within seconds Clark's arms were wrapped around him, his body pressed against Clark's.  
  
"Can't have you falling on glass," Clark explained.  
  
Lex glanced up, his face inches from his friends. "I'm sorry, Clark," he whispered. "I just really needed some."  
  
"I know, Lex," Clark soothed him, pulling him into a hug. Lex buried his face in Clark's shoulder. "I know it has to hurt." Clark rubbed his hand gently up and down Lex's back Clark wondered why Lex had pain meds and what would happen since he took so many. He also wondered if Lex was going to pass-out on his shoulder. "Come on, we've got to get you to bed."  
  
Lex plopped down on the bed. "Oh, bad," he winced as the pain shot through his head. He waited a second for the pain to subside, and then he gradually shifted his legs onto the bed. He paused a moment to catch his breath, then began clawing at his collar. Although his shirt was only buttoned at the top, it was stiff and tight. "Why do I always have to wear such uncomfortable clothes?"  
  
"I didn't know that Lex Luthor HAD to do anything," Clark commented before assisting Lex with the stubborn button.  
  
"I HAVE to do everything," Lex corrected. Clark lifted Lex's body up and slid the shirt out from beneath him. "Will you get me some pajamas?" he asked. "In the closet dresser, top drawer. I don't want to sleep in this." Clark disappeared behind the wall. "I do have to do everything, like . . . live in Smallville, and look good in front of the cameras, and do what he says, and take what he says I deserve, and not cry, and . . ." Lex trailed off.  
  
"These okay?" Clark asked holding up a pair of black silk pajamas.  
  
Lex couldn't see a thing because his vision was so blurry, but he whispered "Uh huh" anyway.  
  
"You really hate your father, don't you?" Clark asked as he helped Lex slip one arm through the pajama top.  
  
"Yes," Lex admitted.  
  
"Why?" Clark asked, trying to relate.  
  
"That is a very long conversation for a later date, Clark," Lex replied, his words fading as he spoke.  
  
Clark nodded that he understood. Some secrets had to last longer than others. "You, uh, want me to, uh . . .?" Clark asked awkwardly staring at Lex's pants.  
  
"Uh huh," Lex replied. He was starting to fall asleep; his eyes were starting to flutter.  
  
Clark stepped back for a moment. Lex had asked him to help him with the pajamas, but Lex was slightly less than conscious. Did he really realize what he was asking? Clark knew he wanted to slip Lex's pants off, to rub his hand down Lex's strong thigh, but . . . not if Lex wasn't okay with it. Was Lex still capable of making a decision like that? Just change the pants, Clark. No looking, no touching. That's fair, right? Clark tried to reassure himself that it was. He unbuttoned and unzipped Lex's black pants, trying so hard not to get aroused. He lightly pulled the pants down past Lex's bottom. Too late, Clark thought as he felt a stir below. Just finish it, he commanded himself. The slower you are, the more you'll get turned on. Clark yanked Lex's pants off and forcefully pulled on the delicate silk pajama bottoms.  
  
"There's probably a pair in there that will fit you, too," Lex whispered, surprising Clark that he was still conscious.  
  
"Oh, no, I . . ."  
  
"No, you need to sleep, too, Clark. You've had as long a day as I have. How . . . how did you manage not to get hurt?"  
  
"I don't know," Clark lied. He hated lying, especially to Lex, but it was necessary.  
  
"Well, you still need sleep, and pajamas," Lex demanded.  
  
Clark decided that it was best to appease him. In this state, Lex could have anything that he wanted. He searched through Lex's pajama drawer and slipped into something himself. He came out a little self-conscious. He was not Lex Luthor and didn't have the right air to wear his clothes.  
  
"You look good in blue," Lex commented. Clark could tell that the drugs were starting to kick in; Lex was slurring his words a little.  
  
"Thanks," he whispered. To his surprise, Lex scooted over in the bed a little and patted the bed with his good arm.  
  
"You sleep here," Lex drawled.  
  
"Oh, Lex, I really think that . . ."  
  
"Please, Clark?"  
  
The request stunned him. To tell the truth, Clark wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Lex, but not like this. He'd be taking advantage of Lex if he did anything now. He's just asking you to lie next to him, Kent. You can keep a better eye on his breathing that way, anyhow. And . . . you've slept on him before. He was sober when he agreed to that . . . there's nothing wrong with just laying there. Clark crawled onto the bed next to Lex. He pulled the covers up over both of them. "Okay?" Clark asked.  
  
Amazingly, Lex rolled over onto his good arm, burying his head in Clark's chest. "Clark, make the bed stop spinning," he begged.  
  
"I can't, Lex," Clark explained. Lex didn't complain. He did, however, bend his leg up on top of Clark's. Don't get excited, Clark chided. He'll be able to feel it if you get excited. Lex's leg rubbed up and down Clark's slowly.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
"Yes, Lex?" Clark asked, a little embarrassed.  
  
"I love you," he admitted softly, under his breath. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I do."  
  
"It's okay, Lex." Clark kissed Lex ever so gently on his bald head. "I love you, too." But it was too late, Lex had already passed out.  
  
**  
  
"What the Hell are you two doing?" Lionel Luthor demanded to know as he shoved open the bedroom doors.  
  
Clark was startled into consciousness. "Mr. Luthor . . ." He gently nudged Lex awake.  
  
"Glad to see you, too, Dad," Lex said facetiously. "Now, get out," he commanded. "I don't want you here," he said firmly to his father. How dare he show up now? Clark was the one who had been there for him, and Clark was the only person he wanted with him right now. His father had no right to bust in all judgmental, not after the way Lionel had abandoned him.  
  
"Excuse me, young man? What did you just say to me?" Lionel challenged.  
  
"You have no right to be here, not now." Lex was furious. His fuse was short and he didn't feel like playing their pretend game. "Get out!"  
  
Lionel defied the "order" from his son with a smile, approaching the bed. "Would you care to explain to me why Dr. Parker called me this morning?"  
  
"Dr. Parker, the director of Metropolis General?" Lex asked, his fear beginning to show through.  
  
"You can imagine how awful it made me look when I had to admit that I didn't even know that my son had been in his hospital."  
  
"Clark, wait outside," Lex directed.  
  
"What?" Clark asked, confused.  
  
"Wait outside. Please, Clark," Lex begged. He didn't want Clark to see what he knew was coming. He could never look Clark in the eye again if he knew . . .  
  
Clark glanced with concern between father and son. "Okay," he said. He left worrying about these new family dynamics, unsure of what to do. The heavy stone door slammed shut, echoing his fear.  
  
"Do you have any idea how bad you made me look today?" Lionel scolded.  
  
"I'm sorry, Sir." The time for games was over. Now, facing his angry father alone and already injured, his only concern was saving himself from a few extra bruises.  
  
"Stand up," his father ordered.  
  
Lex obeyed to his best ability. He was so dizzy still; he could only make it a few steps from the bed. He quickly assessed the situation, not good. He was already on the verge of collapsing, and he only hand one arm to defend himself with. Not good at all.  
  
That's when the dreaded hand raised up, ready to strike. "Don't you ever," the first blow was delivered square on Lex's cheek. What normally would have been mild smack was enough to send Lex reeling backward. "Oh no, you don't," Lionel stated as he pulled his son upright by his bandaged arm. Lex screamed in agony. The shoulder had been pulled, now he was sure that it was pulled right out of its socket. "Don't you ever, ever embarrass me like that again." Lionel struck Lex's face to punctuate every word. Finally, Lionel released the tortured arm, sending Lex flying to the floor. He slammed his head, including his eye, on the corner of an end table on the way down. The eye swelled up immediately. "Do you understand me?" Lionel chose to bring attention to this question with swift kicks to Lex's abdomen.  
  
Clark paced up and down the hallway. More than anything he wanted to know what was going on in that room. He could very easily use his x-ray vision and find out, but . . . Lex had told him to wait outside. He had told him that for a reason: he didn't want Clark to know. Clark was sure they were fighting, but . . . it was none of his business. Lex had made that perfectly clear. He thought he heard Lex scream . . . It's just your imagination, Clark, he told himself. Still, what if it wasn't? What if Lex really was in trouble? Surely his father wouldn't . . . but what if he was? Clark couldn't take it anymore, he burst into the door. To his chagrin, Lex was balled up on the floor in obvious pain. Lionel said nothing; he didn't even acknowledge Clark's presence. He simply slid out the doors.  
  
Clark rushed to Lex's side. The injuries were severe. If only he had stayed, or come back sooner . . . then Lex wouldn't be hurt like this. He could have protected Lex, but instead, he stood in the hallway like an idiot. The entire time he just stood there while Lionel Luthor beat poor Lex. I'm sorry, Lex, Clark apologized mentally, but he knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for deserting his friend.  
  
"Lex," Clark called him back to consciousness. Lex's right eye fluttered slightly; the left was nearly swollen shut.  
  
"Clark???" Lex questioned through his confusion.  
  
"We've got to get you to the hospital," Clark said.  
  
"No," Lex said adamantly. "You don't go to the hospital for this kind of injury, Clark," he added.  
  
"But . . . you're hurt . . ."  
  
"I've taken a lot worse."  
  
Clark swallowed hard. Had Lex really just told him what he thought he heard? Lionel Luthor was abusing his son, had been abusing his son. That did explain so much: why Lex had a private and confidential doctor on call at all times, why Lex knew so much about the treatment of bruises and concussions, why Lex had pain killers on hand, why Lex got so scared whenever his father was around. My God, no wonder Lex needs love so much!  
  
"How long has your father been abusing you like this?" Clark asked straight out.  
  
"As long as I can remember," Lex admitted. "It got a lot worse when I lost my hair. I guess he lost whatever love he did have for me the day I became a freak."  
  
Now Clark felt lightheaded. My fault, he thought once again.  
  
"I guess it maximized right after Mom died. I lost my mother, best friend, and protector the day she died."  
  
"I'm sorry, Lex."  
  
"Not your fault," he whispered through the pain.  
  
Clark swooped Lex up into his arms. Screw hiding his powers; Lex needed him. Lex hissed with the pain of movement. Clark carried the balled up Lex to the bed and gently laid him down. "How can I help you, Lex?"  
  
"Ice," Lex whispered, "for my eye."  
  
"Be right back with some," Clark zipped out of the room.  
  
"Clark," Lex called after him.  
  
"Yeah," Clark stuck his head back through the door.  
  
"Can I please have some more pain pills?"  
  
Clark knew it wasn't a good idea, but . . .  
  
"Please, Clark?"  
  
How could he say no to that? "Only one," Clark said before exiting the room once again.  
  
Lex made a mental tally of his injuries. He had a black eye, his concussion was definitely a lot worse than before, a dislocated shoulder, and one or two cracked ribs. He hoped that they weren't really cracked, but based on how painful it was for him to breath and how shallow and fast his respirations were; Lex was sure he had broken a rib. This was bad. Maybe he'd have Clark call Dr. McGivens. He could trust Dr. McGivens not to ask questions.  
  
**  
  
Lex was passed out when Clark returned. Clark gently tried to rouse him, but Lex was out cold. Unsure of what to do, Clark decided to let Lex sleep and just take care of him as best he could. He lightly placed the ice pack over Lex's black eye. Worried and afraid, Clark brought a chair to Lex's bedside. He would sit there and just watch Lex. As long as he keeps breathing, right? Clark held the ice pack in place with one hand and let the other hand trail down to Lex's. He took the limp hand in his and squeezed tight, "I'll never let him hurt you like this again, Lex."  
  
**  
  
The world slowly began to filter in through Lex's eyes. Everything was blurry, and his left eye wouldn't open at all. He tried to make out the room. Where am I? Lex wondered. My room, he realized when he saw the black sheets. The sharp pain that greeted a deep breath was enough of an indication that his father been around. He tried to figure out how badly he'd been hurt this time. Everything hurt: his head, his eye, his mouth, his shoulder, his ribs. Dad had done a bang up job this time. That was only appropriate; Luthors didn't do anything halfway.  
  
Lex felt something else through the pain, something good. Someone was squeezing his hand. He turned his head to find the owner of the hand. His pain spiked with the movement, but he tried to make out the figure at his bedside anyway. "Clark?" Lex whispered in confusion. His lip was busted; he decided based on the pain that came with trying to use it.  
  
"You're awake," Clark smiled. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like Hell," Lex admitted. "What . . . what are you doing here?"  
  
"Well . . . I . . ." Clark was confused now, too. "I couldn't just leave you like this!"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"What do you mean what happened? What do you remember?" Clark was suddenly very concerned. How big a hole had the head trauma punched in Lex's memory?  
  
Lex tried to think. Damn it, Clark, why are you asking me such hard questions? It's hard to think with a concussion. It hurts to talk. Hell, it hurts to breathe. The fog in his mind cleared a little and he did remember something. "At the hospital . . . alone . . ."  
  
Clark couldn't believe it. Lex didn't remember anything. They had bonded so much in the last 24 hours, and Lex didn't remember any of it. To Lex, it was like it had never happened. Should he tell him? It would embarrass Lex so much if he told him everything that he knew. Lex didn't deserve to be hurt any more. But, did he have to pretend like it hadn't happen, like he didn't know that Lex loved him, like Lionel Luthor wasn't abusing his son? After all this, did he have to go back to exactly the way things were, pretending certain feelings weren't there? But things could never be the same again. He did know Lex's secrets. Most importantly, now, he knew how much Lex needed him. Clark made a silent vow to always be there for him.  
  
"You're not alone, Lex. You'll never be alone again; I promise."  
  
**The End** 


End file.
